


New World

by Weisse_Rose



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Comfort, Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Season/Series 05, Post-Season/Series 05 Finale, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 18:10:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15801888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weisse_Rose/pseuds/Weisse_Rose
Summary: Just a tiny Bellarke snippet taking place after the season finale.





	1. Chapter 1

Clarke wasn’t sure at what point standing next to each other, looking in awe at their new home, Bellamy’s arm a comforting weight on her shoulder, had turned into a real embrace.

Her head was resting against Bellamy’s collarbone, their arms tightly drawn around each other. Neither of them had said anything for several minutes.

Clarke was filled with a strange mix of emotions, hope and sadness warring with each other. They would never get to see Monty or Harper again. They were gone. But they seemed to have led a happy life. A happier life than any of them had seen on the ark, or on the ground.

Their son had disappeared again to wake the others. To show them a new world. Would they be able to break the cycle this time? To live in peace for once?

She took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, drawing her arms even tighter around Bellamy. She’d just been asleep for several decades, and still she felt weary and tired to the bone.

There was always a new disaster, more tough decision that needed to be made. She never got a moment to catch her breath. She doubted things would be different on an alien planet. There were new challenges ahead.

Bellamy moved his head a little, so that it was resting on top of hers. She turned her head as well, taking in his scent, his presence.

He was alive. In spite of what she’d done. He was alive. Even more surprisingly, he hadn’t told her to go to hell. She’d spend six years thinking about him every day, and then circumstances had forced her to abandon him again.

She heard a strange sound in the otherwise silent room, a chocked-off sob, and realized it had been her who made it.

Bellamy pulled back slowly, locking eyes with her. He lifted his hand to push an errand stray of hair from her face. For a surreal moment, she thought that he was going to kiss her. He’s with Echo. She was surprised at the bitterness that came with the thought.

As if summoned by her thoughts, the others appeared on the bridge. Clarke and Bellamy pulled apart quickly as if they had been doing something they shouldn’t have. Bellamy gave her a last look that she couldn’t quite interpret, then walked away hastily.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote a second drabble taking place some time after the first. Enjoy.

Clarke ran through the thick of the jungle, dragging Bellamy along behind her. They had to get back to the camp as fast as possible.

They'd let their guard down for a minute, and Bellamy had been hit square in the chest with a whole array of thorns from one of the damned shooting killer plants. _Shooting killer plants_. As if her life hadn't been interesting enough already.

If one, or, even worse, several of them had pierced the leather of his jacket- no, she wasn't thinking about that. They were almost back at the camp. He was going to be fine.

They broke through the underbrush into the clearing. It looked like the others were still out on their scouting mission. She turned around to Bellamy, eyes wide.

He looked down at his chest. "It's fine, I think. I didn't feel anything from the impact."

Clarke shook her head, fighting down the rising panic. "Neither did the others. It's nothing more than a prick with a needle and you're done for. We have to check."

He nodded, carefully taking off his jacket, making sure not to touch the tiny green-brown thorns in the process. He took off his shirt as well, laying down on the soft moss that covered the ground in the clearing.

Clarke took a deep breath, clearing her thoughts. She had to, very carefully, inch by inch, check for the tiny bumps under the skin which meant the tips of the spikes had pierced the flesh, and delivered their deadly payload. If she found it now, she still had time to cut it out. If she didn't- well, that wasn't an option.

She knelt down next to him, placing her fingertips right above his collarbone, slowly moving them from left to right, feeling for any abnormalities. The entry wound would be nothing more than the size of a mosquito bite, with no visible mark on the skin. The only chance to detect the deadly spores in time were the tiny pockets under the host's skin.

From where the thorns were still stuck in his jacket, she estimated that the most likely point of entry was low on his chest, but she wasn't taking any chances. She slowly worked her way down from his collarbone, fingers running over his bare skin.

Bellamy slowly exhaled a breath. "It's fine. I wasn't hit in the throat like the others. They can't pierce leather."

"You don't know that. I'm not loosing you to a damn plant infestation after everything we've been through."

Bellamy nodded, leaning back again, allowing her to continue her examination. She resumed slowly running her fingertips over his chest, left to right, again and again. She tried to focus on finding the spore pockets, and not get distracted by the feel of his skin under her fingers.

Clarke hesitated, fingerstips over his heart. She could feel his heartbeat thundering in his chest. Well, they had just sprinted through the jungle. And he was probably full of adrenaline from being hit by a deadly plant only moments ago.

She continued down to his abs, repeating the same slow movement, making sure not to miss any spot, rather opting to run her fingertips over the same area twice when in doubt. Bellamy made a groan which turned into a polite cough halfway through. She looked up, but he was staring into the jungle, not meeting her eyes.

She had now reached the area where the bulk of tiny spikes had hit the jacket, so she was especially careful, slowing down even further.

Bellamy squirmed. "Hold still", she told him sternly, not looking up from what she was doing. _Focus, Clarke_ , she told herself. _Don't get distracted. If you make a mistake, he could die. Focus._

She reached the waistband of his underwear without encountering anything suspicious. She exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Bellamy squirmed again. She looked up, but he was very interested in something to the left of her shoulder, still refusing to meet her eyes.

He grabbed his shirt, and she shook her head. She couldn't be sure she hadn't missed anything. This was definitely a case of better save than sorry. Because 'sorry' would mean Bellamy's death within the next 24 hours.

"We have to do it one more time, to be safe."

His eyes widened, and he gave her a look that could almost be described as panicky.

"That's really not necessary. I'm fine." He lifted the shirt from the ground. She put her hand on his arm, stopping the movement.

"If I missed anything, and it's inside you for more than an hour, there's nothing we can do. I have to make sure. It will only take a couple of minutes. We're safe here."

Bellamy reluctantly put the shirt back down, resuming his lying position on the mossy ground. _Right. Think unsexy thoughts_ , she told herself. _Violent death by killer spores. Now there's an unsexy thought._

She took a deep breath, then repeated exactly what she'd been doing before, starting at his collarbone once more. When she reached the area above his heart, she stopped again. His heartbeat had sped up even more. She frowned. He was resting now, and he thought that he wasn't infected, why was his heart still beating as fast as if he were running? Could it be a sign of infection by the spores? But they shouldn't even be in his blood yet, that was the whole reason why they could be safely removed in the first hour.

She looked up, but Bellamy had his head turned to the side, eyes tightly shut. She resumed what she'd been doing, even more slowly than before, now that there was a possible sign of infection. His skin felt impossibly hot under her touch, which could be because they had just been running, or it could be another sign of infection. She did her task with even more dilligence.

It took her several minutes before she reached the line of his waistbaind again. Bellamy made a noise which sounded a lot like a moan, but cut off suddenly. She looked up and saw that he had shoved his shirt in front of his mouth, presumably to keep himself from making any further noises. Was he in pain?

While she ran her fingers along the skin right above the line of his waistband, busy _not_ thinking about what she was doing, her gaze travelled downward. _Oh_. She stopped what she'd been doing, and sat back. She'd finished her task anyway. Well, that at least explained his elevated heartrate. He was aroused. Just from her touching his chest. _Oh_ , she thought again, dumbly.

Bellamy opened one eye, regarding her. "Done?", he asked. His voice was impossibly low. She nodded, meeting his eyes, trying very hard not to let her eyes wander anywhere else.

He all but jumped away from her, putting his shirt back on as he got up. Clarke sat there for a moment, feeling the ghost of his skin on her fingertips.


End file.
